Page 8 of Psycho

Which was why I fucking needed to know where they were, why I didn’t have anything on my nightstand. I always made sure to keep myself well-stocked here and in the kitchen. They were the two rooms I spent most of my time in. Well, my bedroom and the living room. There just wasn’t much storage in the living room.

I stumbled as I stood. Every limb of my body felt like it wanted to fall off, like a bunch of rocks had been shoved inside of me when I wasn’t looking. It just felt like a heavy skin suit, and I dragged my feet as I made my way to the door, and after that, the hall.

I…I heard talking downstairs, which was odd. My mind sought to remember what happened last night, but it was a hazy blur. I slowly moved to the stairwell, needing to grip the railing hard in order to keep myself from falling down.

Hmm.

A thought entered my head just then, a terrible thought, but it was a lot more straightforward than killing myself slowly with pills. I could fall down the stairs, break my neck, and die. Seemed simple, and it would make everyone happy, wouldn’t it? Declan would be happy his tormentor was gone, Travis would be happy I would no longer be around to try to take Ash, and my parents could find some little orphan boy and teach him the ins and outs of our family, make him care about the Salvatore legacy.

And Ash…she wouldn’t miss me anyway. I’d done nothing but use her, or try to anyway. I wasn’t good for her, for anyone. She was better off without me. I’d only drag her down, just like I tried dragging everyone else around me down too…

I was about halfway down the stairs when I realized something. Those voices downstairs sounded kind of familiar. So familiar, like I’d spent my childhood with them—but that was ridiculous, because why the hell would Travis and Declan be here? And why the fuck would they be talking to each other?

“And your brother, Markus, he hasn’t got back to you yet?” Declan asked, sounding quite frantic.

“I told you, Markus is good, but he’s only good when he knows his target. Ray is an unknown, and if he’s worth his weight, he’ll know to stay off the radar. He could be nearby, near Stanton,” Travis spoke, theorizing about something I had no clue about, “or he could be out of state. He could’ve taken her so far away even my family could take forever tracking him down.”

I was at the bottom of the stairs—quite an arduous, difficult journey for someone whose body felt like a thousand pounds of bricks—when Declan asked, “What does your family even do, Travis? Because from what it sounds like, it seems illegal.”

“My family does what it has to,” Travis shot back. “They do what their sponsors ask them to, just as I will once I’m out of Hillcrest.” Travis stood with his back to me, and Declan was busy staring out of the nearest window. Neither of them saw me, and they were too busy talking to hear me come down the steps.

“So you don’t plan on sticking around?” Declan questioned. “Even if Ash asked you to?”

Travis was quiet for a while, and even though his back was to me, I knew what look he wore. His lips pursed, a frown on his face. Travis held in his emotions, wearing a mask in most cases. He was a hard one to peg down. “You don’t run from your family duties, and if you do, it’s only because the family lets you go.” There was a pause before he whispered, “I won’t run from my future, but I will stand by Ash’s side as long as she’ll have me—”

Ugh, fuck. They both sounded way too lovey-dovey for me. I hated the turn of the conversation immediately, and I let out a grumble as I moved away from the stairs and to the kitchen, yanking open the drawers one by one. “Not that your conversation isn’t riveting,” I mocked them, tossing them both what I hoped were glares, “but I need help finding…”

The drawer that I kept my stash in was empty, and the rest of the drawers yielded nothing but silverware and baking books, among other things. What the flying fuck?

I slammed the drawer shut, causing my body to ache something fierce, but I didn’t care. The sound of it being harshly closed made my head hurt worse than it already did.

“Where the fuck is my shit?” I asked, practically yelling even though my raised voice made me wince. Pure irritation coursed through me, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to lunge at them both.

Did one of them clean me out? Why? I knew they weren’t using the pills themselves, so it was a fucking waste if they thought they could help me get clean or some stupid shit like that. Besides, I didn’t want help. Having either of them help me? Hah. I’d rather gouge out my own eyes with spoons.

Travis sent me an unimpressed look. He’d seen me spiral before, so this was nothing new. What was new, however, was the fact that I hated both of the bitches standing in front of me. Travis and Declan could both go to hell.

“You need to go back upstairs,” Travis said.

“Fuck that,” I stated. “I’m only going upstairs once I know where my shit is.”

“If you don’t go upstairs right now, I’m going to drag you up there myself.”

I let out a laugh. I was the most ripped out of each of us, my body holding the most muscle. No one was going to take me anywhere, though they were welcome to try. I might feel like shit, but I could still take either one of them should they try.

“Sawyer,” Declan spoke, sounding quite calm, given the circumstances. Given the fucking fact they were both in my house, even though I was pretty sure I remembered telling Travis off and saying he wasn’t ever welcome in my house again. And Declan, well, he not being allowed here should be obvious.

They used to be my friends, but now? Now I didn’t have friends, which I should’ve known from the get-go. I was a Salvatore, and Salvatores didn’t have friends or girlfriends they were free to choose based on feelings and not social status. Oh, no. Us Salvatores had obligations.

“Sawyer,” Declan said my name again, softer this time. He moved away from the window, moving through the living room towards me, stopping when he stood near Travis. “Please go back upstairs. You’re out of your mind.”

My eyes dragged between Travis and Declan, and I let out an ugly chuckle. “What? You guys are friends now? Back together? Bestest buddies like no one else ever had? Fuck you,” I said, digging in my pants’ pocket. “I don’t need to find where you hid them. I can…” My hand couldn’t find my phone. Both pockets were empty.

What the shit?

“Looking for this?” Travis waved my phone in the air, giving me a frown.

“Give that back,” I growled out, fighting off new waves of nausea. I lurched out of the kitchen, trying to grab my phone from him, but he was able to easily push me off. My strength was no good when I could barely stand on my own two feet, I guess. “Where do you guys get off, doing this to me? You’re not my friends. You’re—” I stopped, leaning against the counter behind me. I stood on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, staring at my old friends, wondering just how we’d reached this point.

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